Siren Head Creepypasta Novels & Stories

A hairline fracture spiderwebbed across the glass of the desk, and the scent of wet earth and rot began to seep through the vents of the high-end filtration system. "He didn't follow the scent," Lucien whispered, his voice cold with a new kind of terror. "He followed the sync." Silas wasn't just coming for me. By tethering our souls together, I hadn't just given myself an anchor. I had given the Reaper a map.

Every instinct screamed. NPC. This was an NPC. But the script had been shredded. This was something else. “Kiera?” The head tilted, a grotesque parody of curiosity. The voice held a smile that didn’t reach those dead eyes. “Are you scared? Don’t be scared. I found the most amazing thing back there. The signal here is terrible, my stream keeps dropping. Come with me. We have to document this. For the channel.” She reached out a hand. Her fingers were too long. The nails were dark, sharp slivers in the gloom.

Without a word, they moved into position, the air was thick with anticipation, and the musky scent of our mixed arousal. My tight unfucked ass was about to be claimed. I shivered, pushing myself onto my hands and knees and presenting myself like the eager consort I was in this twisted fantasy world. How would I get back? I brushed the thought away immediately focusing on the fun about to happen; getting my three holes pulverised by their monstrous cocks at once! Lucien stepped up first, that veiny cock of his was thick and curved like a banana. He had been stroking it the whole time making pre-cum drip from the slit, and my mouth watered at the sight.

A scream that’s sharp, terrified, and cut off too fast. Cara. I sprint inside. “Cara!” My voice ricochets off marble walls. No answer. Adrenaline spikes so hard my vision narrows to a tunnel. I move room to room, gun drawn, until a sound floats up from below. I hear a low, unstable male voice, coaxing, then snapping, then coaxing again. A basement.

And when Celine came, he found her kindness with all that it contained, with her smile, her rebellion, her kindness, her innocence, and even her appearance. He laughed relentlessly at his ever-maligning fortune at every turn of his life, at his helplessness and a sick heart, at the innocent and refined feelings that had robbed him of himself all of a sudden, the first time at the hands of Kira and the second at the hands of Celine. He got up from the bed and wandered around the small room nervously, wondering: Where will he find them? Where will he find them as they search for the headquarters of the Siren since the time of the ancients and they still have not reached a conclusion so far, th

Sienna calmly walked down the flight of stairs. With each step she took lower there was a corresponding click of her heels. The burning yellow flames from the Sconces on the wall lit the path which guided her all the way down the underground torture quod. Reaching leveled ground, Sienna heard the twelfth blood-curdling scream since she began her journey down. She stood as still as a wax figure and sucked in a good long breath. The familiar scent of freshly shed blood tainted it.

I move my head back as he reaches forward trying to put the necklace on me but it's no use I can't get away from him. He slips the rope over my neck and I feel my skin burned instantly when the stone hits my skin. I can smell the disgusting scent of skin burning. Creepy old lady steps forward smirking at me. Her eyes glaze over almost as if they rolled into the back of her head. They turn white as she holds her hands up toward me and starts chanting some shit I don't even know, I can't understand what she's saying. It's not even english. She keeps saying the same shit over and over again and I look at her as if she's crazy before I start feeling something strange happening to my body.

I shook my head before returning to my resting position, thankful that she couldn't see my smiling face from her little show of magic. "Oh come on. That was awesome," She reasoned, laying across my back in an attempt to get my attention but I only growled in response. She giggled, "I'm sorry." I didn't reply, already knowing I was never mad at her in the first place. A few moments passed before she spoke again. "I'm actually a Syren. A full-out, mind-controlling, water-bending Syren. Wow..." I felt her body relax as her breathing began to level. Soon enough she was out like a log, snoring and all.

Zara's p.o.v I woke up with an aching body and a sore throat. The side of my neck was slightly hurting and my knee felt the same. "Where am I?" I asked myself silently then turned to face the other side. When I came face to face with a creepy head looking at me.I screamed loudly and moved backwards falling from the bed. The head was popping out of the mistress back while she slept!. It was terrifying and disgusting at the same time. It smirked as more of them popped out of her back with hands.

It was a simpler, cheap version of the Ovilus, one of those crazy-expensive cutting-edge devices ghost hunters used. I waited until Susan and Mike were gone for the day, mustered all the courage I might have, and went to the east parlor. Following the advice I’d found in some reviews of the app, I turned off the internet on my phone. Then, I sat on the couch under the window as usual. I needed to breathe really deep and clear my throat before speaking, in the most natural and casual way I could manage.